


Our Girl

by Davechicken



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Established poly, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 15:45:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8377957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Kylo comes home to find Hux is feeling his rank.





	

Kylo is tired. He’s bone tired. Good tired, though, and when he staggers back to their unofficially shared quarters, he just wants to collapse. 

His lovers are already waiting for him, and he wonders if they timed it deliberately. Sitting side by side on the couch, trading kisses. The Captain clutches the seat cushion to keep her hands still (Hux is in one of _those_ moods, evidently) as Hux teases her through the fabric of her dark slacks. The colour keeps her wetness from being too visible, but Kylo knows if he knelt between her thighs that he’d smell and feel it. 

“Join us,” Hux says, though it’s a command as much as an invitation or request. 

“I’ll just watch.” His helmet slices open, and Kylo leans with it bouncing on one hip, his eyes drinking in the offered scene. 

“He wants to watch, Captain. What do you think?”

“Whatever Sir wants,” she replies, between licks of her lips. 

Between her thighs, Kylo sees Hux’s middle finger dragging her lower ones apart. The inviting V there, begging for more attention than Hux is giving. 

Hux knows how to pleasure her, of course. He’s teasing her to assert his authority, to show who is in control. She parts her legs wider, trying not to pant. 

“She’s missed your fat cock, you know. Missed your brutish penis servicing her. I can feel how open her hole is for you. It’s basically gushing, isn’t it, Captain?”

“Y-yes, Sir.” 

Hux lifts his hand to his face, sniffing his fingers, and then lets his tongue out to lap, drawing over the digit like he’s warming Kylo’s dick up for entry. The thought of that mouth (so prim and proper and stretched around him before he gives it to their woman) and of her… It stokes a fire despite the need for sleep. 

But Kylo can be a bastard, too. 

“I’m not sure she’s ready. She doesn’t look it.”

“You heard the man.”

Phasma stands from the couch, her hair lightly mussed, and strips without seeming to hit any stages between. One moment she’s clothed, the next she isn’t. Her breasts hang gently, her nipples striving for attention. Her low thatch of hair is vaguely damp and glistening, and she stands for inspection. 

Kylo waves a hand, instructing her to spin, and she does so. 

When she’s finished, he looks to Hux. “I think I might go to bed.”

“You sure? She’s almost prepped.”

“Doesn’t look it to me. Looks almost dry. If I want a dry fuck, I can get one.”

“Sir,” Phasma blurts out. “I’m not dry.”

“Prove it,” Hux tells her. 

She looks for permission, then drops to her knees. They splay wide and her hands pull her labia apart, revealing pink and pillowy flesh. Her inner parts clench at nothing, reminding him how it feels to slip inside. 

“I’m very tired,” Kylo lies. Truths. Both. 

“Show the Knight what you can do with your mouth,” Hux orders. 

Phasma smiles, and walks over to kneel between Hux’s legs. Her head covers what she’s doing, but he can imagine the touch of her fingers stroking him hard. Imagine how it would feel to have her nuzzle his thigh as she pulls belt from loops. 

Hux’s hands find her short hair, and Kylo watches with a dry mouth as her head bobs up and down in place. His General looks power mad, and Kylo moves to stand closer. 

He has missed them. It’s just exhaustion, but this is cutting through the chill. He curls fingers between her legs, a thumb playing with her asshole as his fingers swish through her dampness, following her retreats. 

The hiss he hears when his digits bend into her is worth it, and Kylo starts to finger her in earnest. 

“If she’s not enough, you can always fuck me,” Hux offers, blithely. 

The distressed moan on his cock says Phasma doesn’t really want that, and her rump presents higher. 

“You know I love to fuck you,” Kylo agrees. “I’ll even suck you, first, if she’s not good enough.”

That sets her competitive spirit off, and Hux shares a grateful smile for the sudden, vigorous head he’s being given. It’s noisy and messy and Kylo rewards her by frigging her hole as hard as he can. She shakes around his fingers, and when his thumb pinches her clit hood, he has to hold her still from the stimulation. 

“See. She’s a good little trooper.” 

Taller than them both, and able to kill Hux seventeen ways if it wasn’t mutiny. The tension is richer than chocolate cake heated to oozing, and twice as delicious. 

Her body begs to be properly filled, and Kylo can’t ignore his own arousal, now. He tugs himself out, and looks to Hux for approval. He’s in charge right now, and he defers to his lover’s mood. 

“Fuck our girl,” Hux orders him. “Make her choke on my dick.”

He grabs her hips and ploughs into her in earnest, taking his pleasure and leaving her own till last. If she doesn’t come on his cock, then he and Hux can swap their fingers inside to clean her out, and feed it to her. She’s so happy between them right now that it would be a pity not to use her from both ends to the best of their capacity. 

Hux grabs him in for a kiss, and they complete the circuit, the energy flowing through the Force as they give and take, swapping bliss and sighs. Each soothing and stoking, a complete sharing with no envy. 

He’s not too tired for this. He never really is.


End file.
